Bjazzman (Written On A Bar Napkin) Poem by Barry A. Lanier

Escaping my human condition,
Drifting through filtered rays.
Easing closer and closer to the stage,
Jazzman about to dally.

Moans of sassy tragedy and twilight procession,
The Tiger crouches upon his brass and ivory.
Broken shadows dancing,
Quite ashes on the floor.

Where ones are made of opposites,
They're calling out for more.
Among cigar tunes in a straight-gin sky,
Ushering maidens to line the bar.

Jim beam and Jack Daniels, present,
Misbehaved notes, second chance rhythm and riff.
Jazzman hunkers down, the wail of the sax curdles,
Epileptic frenzy, muddy water round my feet.

Deaf-mute waiters among dim lit smoke curls,
Gathering watered down bourbons and scotch.
Tis' Homer, Marlowe, or Kipling?
Hushing faintness crashes gainst' the walls.

Dionysos oscillating among smoke billows,
Final slips and slides, replete on his fruit.
Unbridled, Jazzman lays down his lute.
They're calling out for more.

Then silence, his half-torso, stainless steel,
Jazzman descends the wobbly music stand.
Brilliant shadows under his stump,
Swept........the breath of God.